


Answering Machines and Airports

by MagicInHerMadness



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: Airport AU, Christmas fic, F/M, First Kiss, First Meeting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 02:32:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9051748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicInHerMadness/pseuds/MagicInHerMadness
Summary: Ginny's accidental messages on Mike's machine lead to love in an airport





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I've written something similar to this for another fandom/otp but I couldn't resist trying it out for Bawson

Eugene, Oregon

December 2005

Monday

Mike shrugged off his coat as he walked into his warm house, thankful that he’d remembered to leave the heat on before leaving to chop firewood. He didn’t really need to chop his own wood, but he liked doing it. It made him feel rustic and manly, something he didn’t get to feel very often as a writer. Spending his days behind a computer didn’t give him a particularly virile feeling like working up a sweat with an axe. He went to his desk, facing the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, and hit the PLAY button on his answering machine as he walked to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, thinking it was perhaps the least manly way to end an evening of chopping wood.

He was surprised to hear a woman’s voice and went back into the room to listen to her. “Hi. It’s Ginny. I'm flying in Wednesday. And I’ve got my cello so please clear out the trunk. I’m not strapping it to the roof again, mom. Give Kevin a kiss for me. See you tomorrow.”

Mike frowned, thinking that she’d gotten the wrong number, and that she hadn’t left a callback number so he could tell her. Of course she wouldn’t have left a number though. She thought she was calling her mother. He left the message on the machine, hoping she’d realize her mistake and call her mother with the correct information. He didn’t want her to be left at the airport waiting for relatives who wouldn’t show up.

He went back to the kitchen and made his coffee, listening to a call from his editor about optioning his latest book, _Slow Tango in Sao Paolo_ , in France. After he drank his coffee, he decided to do what writers did best: sit in front of the television for hours while pretending it was inspirational. He settled on _Friends_ reruns and soon fell asleep, his coffee forgotten.

XXXXX

Tuesday

Mike dropped his bag on the floor as he entered the house and shook snow off his hair. He frowned at the sight of himself in the mirror facing the door. He was graying at 41. It was only his temples, but it made him feel terribly old, especially since he needed reading glasses now. He smiled as he remembered that his assistant Amelia and her children had sent him a holiday basket from Colorado where they were vacationing. It was filled with artisanal cheeses and meats that were begging to be a sandwich.

A card sat on the counter and he smiled at their crooked signatures. Little Eli was left-handed and couldn’t stop his writing from slanting. Mike remembered being the same way, and a sudden longing for children of his own struck him. It passed quickly though, as he wasn’t big on the idea of marriage. He had already been divorced once and he had no desire to go for a second round.

He made his sandwich and grabbed a can of ginger ale from the refrigerator then went to sit in front of the television. He seemed to be watching more television than writing lately, and more sleeping than writing too for that matter. He decided to chalk it up to the laziness of the holidays. After he finished his sandwich, he went to his desk and turned on his answering machine.

“Hi.” There was the woman’s voice again. “So I got moved to a later flight. I’ll be getting in tomorrow night instead of tomorrow afternoon. The flight leaves at 4 so I should be landing around 8, unless it’s snowing. It’s snowing here in Seattle but I haven’t had the chance to look at the weather for Eugene yet. Anyway, I got tickets to my show for you and Dom and a couple more if you want to invite people. See you soon. Bye!”

Mike wondered what kind of show she was doing, guessing it had something to do with her cello, then moved on to his next message. His agent had set up an interview with a female radio host that Mike loathed, Rachel Patrick. It had surprisingly little to do with her being his ex-wife and everything to do with her vapid disposition and heavy reliance on sarcasm to seem clever He couldn’t stand an entire hour on her inane show. He deleted the message, deciding he just wouldn’t show.

“Well damn, I was looking forward to an hour of you and Rachel, for old time’s sake and all that.” Mike jumped, whipping around and finding his adoptive brother Blip smirking at him. “I let myself in. I hope you don’t mind. I ate some of that cheese too. That’s good stuff. Tell Ashley to get more.”

“Her name is Amelia,” Mike replied. He sneered at the sight of his younger brother in his pajamas. “You have a penthouse apartment and a closet full of Ralph Lauren. Why are you in my house in my clothes?”

“You have food, and a closet full of Brooks Brothers. And such a lovely view of the snow. Plus it’s just so nice to be around you, big brother.” Blip grinned as he descended the stairs then flopped on the couch. “Who’s coming to visit you?”

“She’s not coming to see me. She’s got the wrong number and thinks she’s calling her mom. I don’t have a number to call back,” Mike replied.

“Well are you gonna go pick her up?”

Mike blinked at his brother. “Yes. I should definitely go to the airport and tell this strange woman that she called me accidentally and I decided to show up to the airport to pick her up.”

“See I was thinking more along the lines of you being a gentleman and not leaving a lady stranded but you can be a cynic if you want.”

“I don’t think being a gentleman is a thing anymore.”

Blip laughed. “Sure it is, just in a different context. Now to be a gentleman, you just have to make girls coffee before you kick them out the morning after.”

“It’s amazing that we’re related.”

“Hey, my wife thinks I’m incredibly romantic.”

“Where is Ev?”

“She had an early meeting with some designers for the new restaurant.”

Mike nodded as he sat next to his brother. He shrugged. “I just think romance might be dead.”

“Bullshit, Mike! You’ve got modern romance sitting in your lap! A beautiful girl calls your answering machine by mistake. You go to meet her to explain the mix-up and she’s embarrassed but you’re so reassuring. And you’ve got that nice guy beard and she thinks you’re so handsome. And you offer to give her ride or hail her a taxi or whatever and she’s like,” Blip put on a comically high voice, “‘Oh he’s just so sweet!’ So she gives you her number and it’s a Hallmark happily ever after.”

“That sounds like a good book,” Mike replied with a smile. “But how do you know she’s beautiful?”

“She’s got a beautiful voice.”

“What about the girl in _Shallow Hal_?”

“Exception to the rule.”

“And, assuming there’s a God, you’re postulating that he’d throw me a beautiful woman _completely_ out of the blue…over an answering machine message?”

Blip shrugged. “What are church people always saying? God works in mysterious ways. Maybe he’s tired of you having a humbug in your ass all through the holidays and threw you a bone.”

“So I would essentially be disobeying God if I didn’t go get her?”

“Yes. Now do it so you can write it. And credit me as co-author.”

Mike laughed and punched Blip’s shoulder. “Get out of my house.”

XXXXX

Wednesday

Mike sat before his computer and frowned at the screen. He was editing a short story for a literary magazine but found he couldn’t focus. His mind was on Ginny, whoever she was, and what she would do when she got to the airport and found no one waiting for her. She would take a taxi, he thought. What else would there be to do? But then he thought of how she would feel about being forgotten by her family—her mother no less—and he felt guilty. It wasn’t his fault. She was the one who had gotten the wrong number. And who didn’t know their mother’s phone number?

At some point, he drifted off to sleep in front of the computer, only to be awakened by the phone ringing. He blinked himself awake, feeling around for the cordless phone on his cluttered desk. The answering machine picked up, and there was her voice. He was instantly awake. “Hi mom, or Kevin…whichever one of you is home right now. I just landed. I’m at Gate 7C. It’s snowing so don’t rush here. But you probably already know that. See you when you get here.”

He looked at the computer screen again but his mind drifted to her. Mike pushed himself away from his desk and stood. He couldn’t just leave her there. He’d never stop thinking about it. He found the phone on the coffee table before the couch and dialed Blip’s number. He answered on the third ring. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Mike hung up and went to get his coat from the closet. He left his house and began the 45-minute drive to the airport, cursing the holiday traffic and the Christmas music on the radio. He flipped past Rachel’s show briefly, stopping briefly to hear her lamenting his absence—officially, he was ill—then moved on.

xxxxx

The airport was bustling with people everywhere as Mike walked through the brightly lit building, looking around at the signs to find Gate 7C. It didn’t occur to him until he found it that he had no idea who to look for, or how he would explain himself. But it was too late to chicken out. He was already there.

She was surprisingly easy to spot at the baggage claim as she attempted to pull her cello off the rotating rack. Mike walked over and took it down for her. She turned to smile at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Mike replied. He wondered again how to explain himself. “You’re Ginny, right?”

Her eyes widened in surprise then she squinted at him as if trying to place his face. “Yes. Have we met?”

“Not exactly. You left your messages for your mom on my answering machine. I didn’t know how to get in touch with either of your so I just came down here to explain. I didn’t want you to think your parents had forgotten you the day before Christmas Eve.”

She smiled, pulling out her Blackberry to look at the number. “I can’t even imagine which numbers I mixed up. I’m so sorry I dragged you away from your family.”

Mike shook his head. “You didn’t. I was just avoiding my work.”

“Well you still drove all the way down here just to tell me what happened.” She smiled again. “Can I buy you a drink as a thank you?”

“Sure.” Looking at her dark brown eyes and full lips, Mike couldn’t think of one reason to turn down having a drink with her. And she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. He knew that that didn’t mean anything, but he decided to take it as a good sign. “After you.”

They easily found the hotel bar and sat down on the old wooden stools. Mike found a goofy first date smile playing on his lips as he watched her pull her compact from her black purse to look at herself. She ran her fingers through her springy curls, then brushed her hands over her pink cold-chapped cheeks. She frowned at her reflection then offered him an apologetic smile. “You’ll have to excuse my appearance. I always sleep on flights so I don’t wear makeup to avoid that dead hooker look you get when you sleep in eyeliner.”

“I have the exact same problem,” he joked, smiling when she laughed. “I think you’re beautiful.”

A little more color rose in her cheeks and she gave a shy smile, dimples popping out as her nose scrunched. “Thank you.”

The bartender took their orders. Mike was surprised when Ginny ordered a glass of sherry. “I thought I was the only person who liked sherry.”

“I toured with the London philharmonic last spring and that’s all there was to drink besides room temperature beer. Now I won’t drink anything else, except champagne, but I don’t think we’ve known each other long enough for you to see me champagne drunk.”

“You’ve been to London? Me too. Personally I think its way more interesting than Paris, although that’s all anyone who’s been to Europe will talk about if you ask.”

“I love London, and Paris is absolutely overrated—it’s way too trendy—but have you been to Amsterdam? It’s probably my favorite European city. It’s beautiful in the summer. Everything's painted these bright primary colors and the flowers are in bloom. The locals ride their bikes everywhere and everyone waves at you. It's like a picture from a children's book.”

“You wanna talk beautiful, have you seen Ireland in the winter? All the old clan castles covered in snow and there’s nothing to see for miles and miles but these beautiful forests. I’ve probably got a hundred pictures of nothing but snow and trees.”

“Have you seen Rome in the summer? It’s probably the hottest place on earth but it’s so beautiful. All the flowers are in bloom everywhere and there’s music and dancing at restaurants. I didn’t wanted to leave.”

“Wow you’ve done a lot of travelling. What do you do?”

“I’m an executioner by trade but I play a little cello on the side,” she joked.

“An executioner? Nice. You meet so few people who work with their hands anymore.” He laughed. “How do you do it?”

“Well I used to have a guillotine but you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get through customs, and almost no one has one handy when I get there. And then I switched to the electric chair but the voltage differences in Europe are a nightmare. I'm strictly lethal injection now." She laughed softly then sipped her sherry. "And what do you do?"

"By day I'm a writer—I got around Europe studying abroad every summer—but at night I dress up like a raven and fight crime," Mike answered.

Ginny nodded. "So did you decide raven and have the costume made, or did you find the costume and just say, 'Okay, raven'?"

"I woke up in the costume and went with it."

Ginny laughed. "Crime fighter and writer. Would I have read anything of yours?"

"Um, my newest book is called _Slow Tango in Sao Paolo_. It's being made into a movie actually."

Her eyes widened and she pulled the book from her purse. "You wrote this? Oh my god! My mom sent it to me and she raved and raved and I didn't think I would like it. I’m more into true crime and historical fiction, so I waited to read it on the plane thinking it would bore me to sleep. But it was so sharp and funny and not at all sappy. I couldn't put it down on the flight."

Mike smiled, soft and proud. "Well thank you."

"I'm not trying to flatter you I promise. It's brilliant." She smiled so genuinely that Mike believed her. "I absolutely love Lucy. And Roger is like the sweetest guy on the planet. And it's going to be a movie? Who's starring in it?"

"Um, we haven't nailed it down. We're really hoping Kerry Washington will sign on as Lucy. She was in that Ray Charles movie. I don't know if you've seen it but I saw it and I was just blown away. And we've had a few guys audition to be Roger. Ryan Gosling is my pick, but Ryan Gosling wants to read for it too."

"Ryan Gosling has been the love of my life since The Notebook." She giggled, color rising to her cheeks. She finished her sherry and sat her glass down. The bartender came to refill it but she waved him away. "Are you writing the screenplay too?"

"Co-writing. MGM set me up with a whole team."

"Sounds fancy," she teased.

"I've got a parking spot and an office too. It's the craziest thing." They spent the next half hour talking about everything and nothing. Mike found her endlessly fascinating as she told him about living in India for a year after college to learn yoga. His phone buzzed with a text message and he smirked, knowing that only Blip took the time to text him. He didn't open the message but looked at the clock. It was nearly 9:30. He looked at Ginny. "Do you want to me to hail you a cab? I'm sure your mother's looking for you."

"She can't be. She doesn't know I'm here," Ginny replied with a smile.

Mike smiled too. "Well in that case, would you like to have dinner with me? I promise to get you to her safely."

"Dinner sounds good." She hopped off her stool and placed a twenty on the bar. "Do you know anywhere around here to get a good burger? My mother's a vegetarian so I need to get my last taste of meat for the next week."

"There's this great place a few streets over that makes these giant burgers the old-fashioned way. And they have steak fries. How does that sound?"

"Like heaven." She picked up her suitcase and Mike picked up her cello case. "You know what's terrible about Seattle: it's so hip. Everyone's trying to be so trendy and new age that you can't get a decent burger. Everything's organic or free range or vegan or _nondairy_ vegan because apparently there's a difference. It makes eating almost impossible. God bless In-n-Out or I'd die of starvation."

Mike chuckled. "It sounds like Portland. Thankfully it's still pretty rustic and down home here."

Dinner turned into a late drive to the mountains to see the city from above. Ginny took endless pictures to add to her album of cities during different seasons. Mike wondered how a mistaken phone number had led to the best first date he'd been on in years. He wondered if there was some truth to what Blip had said, if this was some kind of Christmas miracle.

By the time they made it to her mother's house, it was after midnight. Mike walked the front door and she smiled at him under the motion-activated porch light. "Thank you for tonight. And for coming to the airport. I don't think I've ever had such a nice time with anyone."

"Me either."

She dug through her purse and produced a ticket to her show. "It's tomorrow night at 8 at the amphitheater. I hope you can make it. It's a chance to see me as my most presentable self if nothing else."

"I'll be there." He tucked the ticket in his pocket.

Ginny smiled at him again then stood on her toes and kissed his cheek, dangerously close to his lips. "Goodnight Mike."

"Goodnight Ginny," he replied then waited for her to unlock the door and go inside before he went back to his black Jeep Wrangler, in which her cello had fit surprisingly easily. He drove home, a smile immovable from his lips.

XXXXX

Thursday

Mike arrived early at the amphitheater and smiled at the sight of Ginny setting up her cello on its stand. He walked to the stage, which was nearly as tall as he was, and called her name. She looked up from her sheet music and smiled then walked to the edge and sat down. "Hi."

"Hi," he replied then held out the red tulips he'd bought for her.

Ginny smiled. "You remembered."

She had told him in passing that tulips were her favorite flower, red ones especially, and Mike had arrived at the florist at dawn to get them as fresh as possible then kept them in the refrigerator all day so they would still be perfect for her. He shrugged shyly and held up the program. "You didn't tell me that you were the featured performer."

She smiled, blushing. "It's just a tiny solo."

"A tiny solo? You're the star. I'm talking to a celebrity!" he teased.

She shook her head, still smiling. "You're definitely more famous than me."

"My name's not on any program."

"Yeah but it's on a whole row of books in Barnes & Noble."

He laughed. "Yes, because Barnes & Noble is the height of fame."

xxxxx

 

After the show, Ginny bowed graciously and walked offstage. Mike stood as he clapped for her, wondering how long it would be before she came out. He didn't have to wait long because within minutes she was making her way through the audience to hug people he assumed to be her parents. He smiled when her eyes scanned the crowd and landed on him. She waved him over and he hurried to her.

"Mom, Kevin, this is Mike. He's the one who helped me out at the airport when I got your number wrong," she said with a smile, giving his hand a squeeze. "Mike, this is my mom, Maya, and my stepfather, Kevin James."

Janet smiled as she shook his hand. "Well a thank you is in order. Who knows where Ginny might have ended up if you hadn't been so kind."

"She'd have taken a cab like anyone else," Kevin deadpanned with a smile as he and Mike shook hands. "But thanks for being a gentleman. We're a dying breed."

"Tell me about it," Mike replied.

"So Mike will you be coming to our dinner party for Ginny tonight? It's a dozen or so of our closest friends and we'd love to have you." Janet smiled warmly at him.

"There's no food, at least nothing anyone wants to eat," Kevin interjected.

"But there's more booze than you can dream of," Ginny promised.

Mike smiled at her, giving her hand a squeeze. "Sounds nice."

"Ginny, will you ride with us or Mike?"

"I'd be happy to drive you," Mike offered with a smile.

Ginny smirked. "Don't encourage them. They'll have us married by summer."

"Good. I'll have my tan by then," Mike replied with a chuckle.

They drove to her parents' house, listening to Christmas music despite Mike's aversion to it.

" _I’ll be home for Christmas/ You can plan on me/ Please have snow and mistletoe/ And presents by the tree_ ," Ginny sang along happily, a little smile on her face and Mike had to remind himself to keep his eyes on the road.

 

xxxxx

 

Mike stood on Janet and Kevin's deck, his coat draped over Ginny's shoulders. "How long do you think it'll be before anyone notices we're gone?"

"Hopefully long enough." She smiled. "I'm sorry about everyone mistaking you for my boyfriend."

"Hey, if people think I'm good enough to land someone as beautiful as you then it's a win in my book."

Ginny laughed as she turned to look at him. "You've got snow in your hair. Here, let me get it."

She stepped closer and stood on the toes of her black boots to brush the snowflakes from his lowered head. Mike lifted his head when he thought she'd finished and they stared at each other, shyly at first then with more purpose.

"This might be the perfect moment to kiss if my mother wasn't peeping at us through the drapes," she teased.

Mike looked over his shoulder and a small gap in the drapes quickly shut. He chuckled. "The coast is clear, I guess."

Ginny took his face in her gloved hands and pulled him closer to press his lips to hers.

 

XXXXX

 

Friday

Mike was changing his sweater when Blip appeared in bedroom doorway. “Christmas with the in-laws?”

“Shut up,” Mike replied.

“You called me at 2 in the morning to tell me about this girl. I’ll make any crack I want, especially since you woke Ev up too.” He sat on Mike’s bed. “So what does she look like?”

Mike took the concert program from the dresser and handed it to his brother. Blip smiled. “Wow. Maybe I should get an answering machine.”

Mike chuckled. “She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?”

“Way out of your league. Must be a Christmas miracle.”

“Whatever. See you later.”

xxxxx

Mike got out of his car and walked up the walkway to Janet and Kevin’s front door. He jumped when a snowball hit his back and whirled around to find Ginny grinning at him like a child from the space between the house and the one next door. Mike smiled as he bent to pick up a snowball of his own. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Only if you catch me,” she replied before taking off behind the house. Mike ran after her and nailed her back with the snowball, laughing when she howled. She ran behind the bushes and reappeared with another snowball, this one only missing Mike because he ducked. His next one hit her in the stomach and she fell with a shriek.

Mike hurried to her. “Are you okay?”

She replied by kicking his right leg out from under him and Mike fell beside her with a thud. “I’m fine now.”

He laughed as he wiped snow off his face. “I win. You cheated.”

“Did not!” Her voice was adorably child-like.

Mike tweaked her nose. “Did so. You took me out without a snowball. That’s cheating.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

“Is not.”

“Is too.”

Ginny laughed, rolling her eyes as she sat up. “Well if you want to win so badly, you can. But I bet I make better hot chocolate than you.”

“You’re on.” He stood and helped her up then they dusted themselves off and went into the house where Janet greeted him warmly. In the kitchen, Ginny made him the most delicious cup of hot chocolate he’d ever had, working with gentle care as she stirred the chocolate in a pot on the stove. She even topped it with whipped cream. “Okay. You win. This is the best hot chocolate in the world.”

She smiled. “Yours is good too, especially these marshmallows.”

“I’m a man of many talents.”

“And those would be?”

“Getting unbelievably lucky through no doing of my own.”

Ginny laughed. “Well if there was ever a talent to have, it’s that one.”

XXXXX

One Week Later

Ginny and Mike stood at Gate 9B, smiling shyly. Mike stuffed his hands in his pockets. "So this is it, I guess."

Ginny gave a little shrug. "I guess so. But I can call you. I've got your number."

"And now I've got yours," he replied. He brushed her hair back from her face. "You know, I'm an expert on endings and I don't think ours is right."

"Really? How should we fix it?" Her eyes lit up.

Mike shrugged. "I don't know. I could probably take a few weeks in Seattle to plan it out though."

Ginny chuckled. "But you don't have any clothes."

"Do you have a Gap in Seattle?"

"Two, actually."

"Then I've got plenty of clothes." He laughed as the first call for boarding her flight was announced. "We should go to the ticket counter and pretend to be married so I can get a seat beside you."

"I get the window. No negotiations."

Mike chuckled as he took her hand. "You already sound like a wife."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are cherished XOXOXOXOXO


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